


i am laid bare

by pinesboi



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spirit!Nicky, Tribute! Joe, blindfold, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 16:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinesboi/pseuds/pinesboi
Summary: A few tentative moments pass, and he feels a mouth against his own. The lips are chapped, a bit rough, but the kiss feels like… it feels like something completely new, like he’s being kissed for the first time all over again. Suddenly, Yusuf just knows. He can taste salt brine like he’s just swallowed sea water, but rather than making him cough he feels as though he’s getting drunk on it. The wind begins to pick up and whistle through the ruins, swirling through his hair with the fresh, dry smell of the vast deserts just to the east. The sensations are all around him and inside him and once, and his hands fly up to the person’s- the spirit’s shoulders, just to keep himself upright.“You’re…” Yusuf says, panting when they part. “How?”-------
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 15
Kudos: 142





	i am laid bare

**Author's Note:**

> fill for this prompt on the kinkmeme:
> 
> Person A is a spirit/god/guardian/magical being. Person B is the sexual offering for that being to bring harvest/good fortune/luck to the village. Person B volunteered because it is an honor and a privilege and honestly they’ve been waiting their whole life for the opportunity. The only caveat is person B must keep their blindfold on at all times because if they see person A’s face the spell/summon/Magic will be ruined and they will have to wait for next year.
> 
> I don’t care who’s who or tops. I just had a random daydream and I’d like some identity porn please.
> 
> *also, i use they/them pronouns for nicky in this fic, because they're a spirit with no true corporeal form and gender is fake.  
> Thank you Sam for beta'ing this and being very very sweet!!!

The stone beneath him is chilly, the cold seeping through the material of the jebba his mother had worked so hard to prepare. The little red velvet pillow provided to him helped some and certainly kept his knees from bruising quite so quickly, but he could already tell by the ache coming in that he wouldn’t be able to wait here for long.

Yusuf’s breath seems loud in his own ears, ragged. His heartbeat pounds away at a thousand miles a minute. He’s prepared for this, he has spent nearly his whole life readying to do this, and yet still he can’t help the way his stomach flops around in nervousness. The more seconds that tick by, the worse it gets.

_ Had the spirit come already? Had it seen him and decided he wasn’t adequate? _

Yusuf has been studying for years for this. Learning their histories, preparing offerings to the various spirits and protecting their altars. His family had certainly encouraged him, seeing as most of them were spiritual leaders in some way or fashion, but this has been the one thing he knew he could dedicate himself to. The moment he turned eighteen, he took the apprenticeship under the last Tribute. Decades, he had waited to be picked for the ceremony. The thought of him still coming up short… of being found unworthy…

He’s thrust from his thoughts by the sound of bare feet on the cracked stone. The footsteps come from behind him, towards the entrance. Yusuf cranes his head around but keeps the blindfold on.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

He doesn’t get a proper response, but instead gets a low chuckle. The footsteps begin to move around him, the sound of skin sliding against the ruined and cracked floor filling the space between his breaths.

“I can hear you, you know,” Yusuf says, annoyed. “And unless you happen to be the spirit of the waters and winds of the port, I am going to have to ask you to leave.”

“And what if I’m not?”

The voice rumbling directly into the shell of his ear takes him aback, nearly causing him to topple over onto his side. It’s rough, accented like they’re from beyond the city. A foreigner, then. His voice would be nice, and Yusuf might even be intrigued if the person were not currently interrupting a very important ritual.

Yusuf huffs and rights himself, smoothing over the bright yellow material of his jebba and the silk blindfold. “Then I will  _ make  _ you leave. Clearly you aren’t from around here, if you’ve decided to climb up into the ruins today, so I will be kind to you. Get. Out.”

“This is your version of kindness?” the voice teases, now moved away and standing somewhere above him. Yusuf catches the soft swishing of fabric as they circle him. “I have to say, I find these dilapidated halls quite lacking. Why should I have avoided coming up here today?”

“I don’t have time to explain this to you. Go back down to the city and ask someone there.”

“I don’t want to go to the city. I’m asking you.”

Yusuf turns to face the voice, now coming from somewhere off to his left. “I am participating in a ritual, one of great importance and significance to my people. It requires I be up here  _ alone.” _ He points that last word like a dart, hoping to strike the intruder in the side. Yusuf almost allows himself to think that he’s been successful for a moment, taking the invading silence as a sign that they’d finally taken the cue to leave.

Then, he feels hands cresting his cheekbone below the blindfold, cool breath like salt sea air on his face. “And what ritual has such a beautiful man blindfolded and kneeling in the ruins of an old fortress?” the voice murmurs, fingertips brushing his skin.

Yusuf is about to go insane, despite what his cock now seems to think. “I’m not to look upon the spirits’ face,” he says primly, not moving an inch. “Now, if you would be so kind, I think you and your fish-breath are scaring the spirit away.”

To his great annoyance, the voice only laughs. The fingers on his face slip down to his lips, tracing their shape. Yusuf doesn’t like this intruder and is in fact quite worried that he will genuinely miss his opportunity with the spirit if this mysterious person doesn’t get out, but that does not change the fact that he finds himself fighting the urge to draw them into his mouth.

“Strange spirit,” the voice says, somewhat forlornly. “I bet you have beautiful eyes. It would be a shame not to look upon them.”

His fingers itch to remove the blindfold. They remain laced in his lap. “It’s simply the way things are. Will you leave now, please? This really is a very important ritual.”

“And what shall you do if I don’t?”

“I suspect it will be more the townspeople that you’ll have an issue with. My mother in particular, after all she went through to prepare me for this.”

“I see.” Their other hand begins to trace shapes on his cheek with their finger, the others still lingering by his mouth. “I certainly wouldn’t want to bring their wrath down on me. I suppose I should leave you to your spirit, then?”

“That would be best.”

The hands leave his face abruptly. There is quiet for a long time, long enough that Yusuf begins to wonder if the person had actually left without him hearing the footsteps.

Then, he can feel a presence kneeling in front of him again. “I have something to confess,” the voice says sheepishly. “I am the spirit you were sent here for.”

Yusuf whips his head up to where the source of the sound originates, despite not being able to see its owner. “What?”

“I’ve had very poor manners; you’ll have to forgive me. The only time I get to talk to humans is during this ceremony. I’m sure you can imagine that it’s not the best place for conversation.”

He scoffs and readjusts on the cushion, his knees beginning to go sore. Yusuf doesn’t dare move for risk of displeasing the real spirit. “Right. And I am a centuries-old djinn.”

The frown is almost audible in the other person’s accented voice. “You do not believe me?”

“I don’t make a habit of taking people who claim to be spirits of the wind and tides at their word, no.”

He feels the ghost of a breath by his ear, now, the person leaning in until their lips almost brush the shell. “Maybe I’ll just have to prove it to you, then.”

Another shiver runs down Yusuf’s back. He  _ knows  _ that he’s got a job to do- an important job, one that his town is counting on him to complete- but fuck if their voice isn’t starting to get to him. One of the steps of the ritual had been going at least one full moon without any sort of relief, and it’s beginning to take its toll on him.

“Maybe you should,” he grits out. “Though I’m not sure how you plan on doing that when I can’t see you.”

The person laughs lightly, their voice drifting around him like a melody. “I’m sure I’ll manage.” Yusuf feels heat against his face, and is taken aback by the sudden presence of another face mere fractions of an inch away from his own. He sucks in a sharp breath, fingertips curling on his thighs. “Do I have your permission?”

“Sure,” Yusuf says, cursing his own breathless voice. “Knock yourself out.”

A few tentative moments pass, and he feels a mouth against his own. The lips are chapped, a bit rough, but the kiss feels like… it feels like something completely new, like he’s being kissed for the first time all over again. Suddenly, Yusuf just knows. He can taste salt brine like he’s just swallowed sea water, but rather than making him cough he feels as though he’s getting drunk on it. The wind begins to pick up and whistle through the ruins, swirling through his hair with the fresh, dry smell of the vast deserts just to the east. The sensations are all around him and inside him and once, and his hands fly up to the person’s- the  _ spirit’s  _ shoulders, just to keep himself upright.

“You’re…” Yusuf says, panting when they part. “How?”

“I couldn’t begin to tell you.” There’s a short pause. “As much as I have loved our short talk, the light is growing dim. We should get started before moonrise, don’t you agree?”

Right. The ceremony. The ritual. This is a spirit.

“Yes. Of course.” He clears his throat, moving his hands back down to his lap to clasp them together. “Great spirit of water and waves, air and wind, take this offering of free will of my body, which-“

The spirit laughs, then, whole heartedly. He feels his face growing hot.

“What?” Yusuf says, growing more self-conscious by the second. His fingers begin to fuss with a loose thread on his jebba he knows his mother will give him hell for later. “Did I say it wrong?”

“No, no,” the spirit says, their hand returning to him to adjust one of his curls. “I just- I keep forgetting that you all insist on that silly prayer.”

“Is it not needed?”

“Not really. All I need is a willing participant. Honestly, if I could do it without this whole ceremony, I would.” Their voice grows ever so soft. “I like to look after you all. I’m not nearly so vengeful as to not allow you safe travels out of your port just because of a silly offering. You giving yourself to the ceremony is what gives me the ah… I’m not sure how to say it. The- the energy?”

“And…” Yusuf begins slowly. “Why can’t I look at you?”

The spirit pauses, then, hand frozen mid-gesture over Yusuf’s face. They sound almost wistful. “Bad things happen to those who look in the eyes of a spirit. It’s… it’s safer this way.”

They both grow silent- Yusuf for lack of words to say, and the spirit resumes softly petting through his hair. He can feel himself shaking slightly, a mixture of the cold and the fingertips skating over his forehead.

“Do you have a name, at least?” he says finally. “It feels… I don’t know, it seems weird to- to do this without knowing what to call you.”

“A name is a powerful thing,” the spirit says simply, though he thinks he can hear a smile behind it. “A true name is not something I can give freely. A nickname, however, that I can do.” The hand moves down to cup his cheek. “You can call me Nicky, for the time we are together.”

“It’s good to meet you Nicky. I’m Yusuf.”

“Yusuf,” Nicky parrots back in a purr. “That’s a very beautiful name. It fits you well.”

If he could see himself, Yusuf has no doubt that he would be nearly red in the face with how hard he’s blushing. “Thank you.” He drops his head and then sighs, relieving some of the tension in his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I don’t- How do we…?”

Fingers curl under his chin to lift his face. “That’s alright. I’m corporeal for now, it should be normal. Well, as in I should feel like any other man. You- I hope that is alright. I can take a different form, if it’s to your liking.”

“I’m sure whatever you’ve got is fine,” Yusuf says lamely, mentally kicking himself the minute after he’s said it. “I’m not picky.”

There’s that laugh again, the one that Yusuf is starting to get used to. He thinks it could almost have a color all it’s own- somewhere between grey and blue, softer than anything with the slightest edge of seafoam green at the ends. He really, really wants to make the spirit laugh more. This should be strange, given that Yusuf is meant to be consummating the end of the month-long ritual with Nicky in a moment, but the urge is there nonetheless.

“Good to know.” Nicky says, breath ghosting over his cheeks. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Please.”

Yes, he sounds desperate, and yes, Yusuf is already much too hard in the linen pants he’s wearing, but he doesn’t care. This time, when Nicky connects their lips, Yusuf reaches out to take hold of his face. It does feel relatively human, which certainly puts him at ease. There’s hair, too- smooth strands that fan out at the base of Nicky’s neck. He doesn’t quite know why, but he imagines it to be a delicate brown. Regular ears, a sharp jawline. There might even be something akin to a mole on the spirit’s right cheek, which is startlingly amusing to him. He’s never heard of a spirit with a beauty mark, but he supposes that not many have seen a spirit with their own eyes.

It doesn’t take long, however, for Yusuf to become completely lost in the way Nicky kisses. All thoughts outside of Nicky’s lips on his fly from his head, once again overcome by the smell of the sea and the desert all ringing through him at once. The spirit’s kisses are kind, but insistent. They don’t press for more until Yusuf willingly opens his mouth, allowing Nicky’s tongue to enter in and explore. He groans a little into Nicky’s mouth, clutching onto the spirit’s hair tightly. Yusuf wants to get lost in this sensation forever. Almost like drowning, almost like flying, and completely addictive.

He can see why Tributes always wanted to come back.

A hand lands, radiating heat, on his thigh. Yusuf’s hips jerk a little at the sudden touch, but he leans into it as much as he can. “Nicky, are you wearing any clothes?”

“Yes. Just trousers.”

“Make it even, then,” Yusuf says quickly, pulling at the hem of his tunic and sitting up slightly. Nicky assists in pulling it over his head and discarding it somewhere on the cold stone beside him. He can feel his skin pebbling up from the chill, and the obvious fix to this is to press his torso to Nicky’s, meeting the spirit’s lips again and stealing some of their warmth.

Nicky’s fingers dance over his stomach, pressing into the divots between ribs and the small valleys made between the muscles of his abdomen. They glide back up to one of his nipples, circling around it experimentally before pinching it lightly. Yusuf groans into the spirit’s mouth, leaning his forehead against Nicky’s shoulder.

“Fuck, that’s-“ Yusuf swallows and presses a quick kiss to the patch of skin available to him. “Do that again? Please?”

The spirit complies, just a little sharper this time. Yusuf’s resulting cry is loud, and he’s half-tempted to try and muffle it into Nicky’s shoulder.

“How are you so perfect?” the spirit mutters into his ear, fingers idly continuing to play with Yusuf as he speaks. “Like you were crafted by the Gods. You asking me so politely to touch you is- it’s refreshing.”

“Used to your Tributes being demanding?”

“Quite the opposite. Normally I have to beg them just to speak to me beyond the referentials and honorifics.”

“In that case,” he says, brazenly, bucking his hips up. “Would you please remove your pants so that you can fuck me?”

Clearly taken aback, Nicky coughs quickly before recovering. “Yes. I can- I can certainly do that.”

It takes a long, awkward few moments of Yusuf using Nicky to stand so that he can strip off his pants, all while still blindfolded, but he manages it somehow. He can hear the sound of the spirit discarding their own trousers not long after, though Nicky returns to his knees before Yusuf’s now fully nude form. Their hands roam up through the hair on his thighs, curling to give his hard cock the barest of brushes. Yusuf grunts out something that’s halfway between a curse and Nicky’s name and sinks his hand into the spirit’s hair for balance.

“Is this okay?”

Yusuf nods, perhaps a bit too emphatically. “More than. Just- I’ll let you know when I’m close. I should probably wait to finish until you’re fucking me, right?”

“Yes, that would be best.”

Without another word, soft lips enclose around his cock. It’s not quite the same feeling as a mouth, which is odd- just a little cooler, with all the same wet suction around it. Regardless, it feels amazing and Yusuf’s almost certain he whites out for a moment before he can properly process the sensation.

“Nicky,  _ Gods,  _ you feel-” Yusuf nearly doubles over as the spirit takes him all the way to the back of their throat and swallows. Nicky’s tongue works at the underside insistently like he’s trying to savor the taste. “Is this part of the ceremony?”

The spirit rises up off of him with a slick sound and something like pride in their voice. “Not technically. I find it helps, though, to get things started.” There’s a brief pause, which Nicky chooses to fill by sliding his hand up over Yusuf’s torso and circling around a nipple. “I also wanted to see what you’d look like when I did that.”

“I hope I met expectations.”

“More than. I wish I could see your eyes, though.”

Yusuf sighs. “I wish I could see  _ you. _ ” He pulls Nicky up to stand, throwing his arms around them and pressing his lips to the junction of their neck and shoulder, biting down slightly at the sudden jolt of arousal he gets from their bare cocks rubbing together. “But I would rather our time not be cut short.”

“Yes- right.” Nicky says softly, kissing him just as sweetly as their tone. “The ceremony.”

He hadn’t really been talking about the ceremony- in fact the number of times Nicky had managed to make him forget completely about their whole reason for meeting was getting startlingly high. Yusuf elects to take the out, deciding it’s  _ definitely  _ too early on to be waxing poetic about a physical manifestation of the harbor. Instead he moans slightly rocking their bodies together. His spit-slick cock smooths the way, paired nicely with the precome forming at the head of Nicky’s.

“Where- will you show me where I need to be?”

Yusuf kind of hates how desperate he sounds to be wrecked, but Nicky doesn’t tease him for it. “This way.”

He’s moved just a few feet, though in what direction it’s hard to tell. Bright moonlight does manage to pierce through the bright red fabric of the scarf tied around his eyes. Against it, he can just barely make out the silhouette of a figure slightly shorter than him, broad shouldered. Any specifics about the face are too hazy to make out, but it’s Nicky. Despite having already been with him for a while, it makes Yusuf’s heart flutter slightly.

“Lay down on your back please, Yusuf.”

Nicky helps him to lay down. The breeze is nearly frigid against his naked form, but blossoms of heat spring up where the spirit’s hands grip his hips, his thighs. They settle with Nicky in between his legs, Yusuf’s thighs propped up to either side. He hears the clinking of crystal- briefly wondering when Nicky had the time to grab the oil set out by the entrance and choosing not to question the extent of the spirit’s powers- and a cool line of slick is drizzled around his exposed hole. He shivers in response and his hands scramble for purchase on the carved stone floor beneath him.

“Did you prepare before this?” Nicky asks quietly, one finger already beginning to prod at his entrance.

Yusuf nods emphatically. “Yes, yes. ‘m ready for you.”

The spirit hums in response, seemingly still content to stick to the slow, torturous motions of his hand. “Good. Still two fingers at least, I think. I don’t want to hurt you, Yusuf.”

One of Yusuf’s hands drifts down to clutch at Nicky’s wrist, both to anchor himself and reassure the spirit. “You won’t. I trust you.”

“You should be careful who you say that to. You do not know me.”

“I feel like I do. I just  _ know,  _ like I was meant to,” he says, mostly without thinking. It’s only after it’s come out of his mouth that he realizes that it’s true. “Now please, if you don’t mind, please get inside of me before I go completely insane.”

Nicky laughs and complies, allowing his slicked-up index finger to pass through the first tight furl of muscle. Their free hand pets down Yusuf’s side as if he were some wild beast- which, honestly, feels just about accurate with how badly his cock is straining for some sort of release. The spirit allows Yusuf’s body to open up around them, and only once they’re down to the last knuckle do they curl their finger.

The reaction is almost instantaneous. Yusuf makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a groan and begins trying to rock down onto Nicky’s hand properly. Nicky has, magically, found that spot inside him that makes him get desperate and needy on the first thrust, and their cock isn’t even  _ in  _ him yet. He sobs lightly and begins to beg.

“Please, Nicky, don’t- don’t tease me. I’ve waited so long for you,” Yusuf whimpers. “I don’t know if I’ll last.”

“Alright  _ tesoro mio,  _ alright. I’ll take care of you.” Nicky says sweetly, laying the barest of kisses of his stomach. They proceed to open him up as quickly as Yusuf assumes they’re comfortable doing, occupying his thoughts by sucking the head of his cock into his mouth. It’s all he can do to simply writhe, to take it, too overwhelmed with the sense of a tide crashing through him and Nicky’s hands on and inside his body. Before too long they add a second finger, scissoring them carefully to the symphony of Yusuf pleading for him.

The spirit removes their digits carefully. Yusuf can hear them slicking themselves up, and he readjusts his legs to allow for more room. He can feel the fat head of Nicky’s cock pushing up against his hole and attempts to bear down on it. A cool hand on his cheek and Nicky’s lips capturing his still him for a moment.

“It’s time, dear heart,” Nicky says. Yusuf finds himself quite proud to hear that the spirit is breathless. “This is very important. You must come with me. I can control mine, you just need to let me know. Can you do that?”

He nods, though his head feels like a ball of cotton on his shoulders.

“Good. This may hurt a moment. Just breathe for me…”

Being fucked by a spirit is both quite similar to what Yusuf expected it might feel like and nothing at all. The same, in that it feels absolutely nothing like anything else he’s had. The cock is familiar territory, yes, but he’s instantly overcome by a whirlwind of careful waters and port storms all at once, almost like he is  _ in  _ them and witnessing them and tasting them all at once. In the dark of his mind, images flash- the harbor by his city, playing in it as a child and losing a shoe within it. Ships sailing out, sails filled by a steady wind that carries them away from land. And then, a pair of eyes unlike anything he’s ever seen. Blue and green and grey at once, with deep stormy circles casting shadows beneath them.

Nicky’s eyes. Like they’re looking into him, searing right into his soul. New, and familiar all at once. He feels as though he’s seen them in some dream he’s long since forgotten.

What Yusuf had not been expecting was how positively surrounded he feels. Nicky’s body fully blankets over his own, hips rolling in a steady rhythm. There’s breath in his ear, telling him how wonderful he is, how lucky Nicky was to be trusted with this, how  _ honored.  _ Their legs press together, Nicky’s stomach rubbing down against his cock.

It takes some time before he has the semblance of mind to speak again, but once he does, it’s paired with his hands finding their home on Nicky’s broad shoulders, detouring into their hair on occasion.

“Nicky, Nicky, Nicky,” Yusuf gasps, clutching to the spirit for dear life. “You feel so good,  _ just  _ like that-“

Nicky’s hand finds space between them to begin stroking at his cock in time with his thrusts. “Anything. Tell me what you need, Yusuf.”

There is only one thing he wants. He can feel his orgasm coming, his balls tight and the muscles on his abdomen tight with the need to come. “I’m close, I just…” He loses his thought on another deep thrust, one that feels like it’s hitting the very core of his being and makes him see stars.

“What?”

“Kiss me?”

Without fail, Nicky complies, drawing their mouths together in something that’s a kiss turned mutual moan, as Yusuf feels the wave breaking over him. His whole body jerks, and he’s entirely certain that his soul leaves his body as thick ropes of come paint his stomach. Nicky jerks inside him, just one thrust more, and begins to pulse their own release. Yusuf is full of Nicky’s come, and sated. He finds himself drifting, fully at peace with Nicky’s body heaving above him, their head cradled on his chest.

It’s only when several minutes have passed that Yusuf notices anything different. The first sign is the smell- like ozone clinging to the inside of his nose, accompanied by the heady scent of sea salt he’s beginning to associate with Nicky. When he opens his eyes, even through the blindfold, he’s accosted by a light brighter than the moon, brighter than the  _ sun,  _ maybe. He has to squint, just to be able to see it at all.

“Nicky?” He asks fearfully. “Did I do it right?”

The spirit’s voice purrs against him, resonating in his chest. “Yes,  _ tesoro.  _ You were perfect. There’s nothing to worry yourself about.” They crane their face up to kiss him, just barely above a peck. “Rest now. Your part is over.”

“Are you going to leave as soon as I fall asleep?”

Nicky stills. He can feel them swallow heavily. “Yes.” They sound truly sorrowful, like it breaks them to say it. “I can’t- I can’t stay like this. Once the sun rises…”

“It’s alright,” Yusuf tries to soothe, but he knows the disappointment in his voice still rings through. He never was very good at hiding his emotions. He tries to picture those big blue-green-grey eyes again, holding them in his mind and vowing never to forget. “Stay as long as you can.”

“I can do that, if you promise me something.”

“What?”

Nicky kisses him again, this time like it’s the last. “Promise you’ll come be the Tribute again next year.”

He grins widely, and hugs Nicky as close to his body as he can. “I promise.”


End file.
